Impossible, Unthinkable, Illogical
by breathlessfiction
Summary: Sometimes, the one thing you can't have is the one thing you need most.    If this pairing disturbs you, please pass by quietly. Thank you.   Chapter 2 is Rated M! Heed this warning, please!
1. Chapter 1

**I realize some people have issues with this pairing, and can't imagine why they'd be reading this, but if they are, please be kind, and not rude. Reviews are love, and I would love to see some. Also, let me know if this should continue on, or just end here. Thanks in advance for reading and reviewing!**

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><p>It isn't his favorite day of the year, but then again any holiday pretty much ruins him. He's been alone a long time, and he's used to it. But it doesn't mean he has to like it. There's a lot to miss in spending life alone. Laughter between kisses, gentle caresses before passion ensues, a soft, feminine body to curl into as sleep takes over.<p>

Holidays suck. Especially this one. He won't say it out loud, but it's one of the many sad truths of his existence. He puts on the tough façade - which may very well not even be a façade anymore – and moves on alone. He acts like he prefers it this way, that it doesn't bother him, that he's too set in his ways to cater to the whims of a relationship. The truth is, he wants more than the solitary life he leads. He wants the unthinkable, the illogical, the one thing he cannot have.

He's spent the past three days chasing down leads on a killer. With his highly-trained team at his side, he managed to catch the guy this afternoon, interrogate him, and get a confession. As a result, he'd had mercy on Tony, Ziva, and McGee, and let them leave early. Each had plans for the evening, and though he had feigned empathy, he'd inwardly been happy they had dates to spend time with tonight.

As he finishes making the rounds of the building, tying up loose ends, he winds up in her lab. It's uncharacteristically dark and quiet, and for a moment he thinks she's gone. Then he sees the flowers, sitting right where he'd put them this morning, and knows she's still here. There's no way she'd leave without that dozen black roses. He peeks his head in and listens. Nothing. He steps inside and moves toward her office door, only half-expecting to find her. He can't imagine what she'd be doing here in silence. Her world is always filled with loud, aggressive music. This isn't right.

He sees the faint light of her desk lamp glowing from within her office. He listens from outside the door, but hears nothing. His heart begins to pick up speed at the thought something may be wrong. Silence and darkness are not two things he's ever associated with Abby. Caffeine-driven energy, pulsating music, bright light and rampant joy. Those are the things she personifies, despite her wardrobe and black lipstick and nails. And he finds none of those things now.

As he enters the office, he spots her. She's sitting against the wall on her futon mattress on the floor, Bert the hippo in her lap. A sad, vacant stare replaces the usual animation in her eyes. She doesn't even look up until he speaks.

"Hey, Abbs. Whatcha doin' in here?"

She looks up, attempting to force a smile. "Hey, Gibbs."

He stares down at her sitting alone on the black futon. She looks like her best friend just died. "You okay, Abbs?" he asks, sitting down beside her, Indian-style.

She's quiet for a bit, like she isn't sure how to explain it. "It's just…its Valentine's Day, Gibbs."

"I know, Abbs. I gave you the flowers, remember?"

She turns to him quickly. "I know, and they're beautiful. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. What's wrong, then? This isn't like you."

"It's Valentines Day, and I'm here. Alone."

"He squeezes her shoulder. "You're not alone, Abby. I'm here."

She smiles sadly. "You know what I mean. You're alone, too."

"No, I'm not. I'm with you."

She lets out a breath.

"What's this about, Abbs. You don't usually care about Valentines Day, or having a date. You're not that kind of girl."

"It's just…I guess maybe I'm tired of it, you know?" She pauses, chewing her lip. "And it seems like I always want what I can't have, Gibbs."

He slides an arm around her shoulders. "I think we all feel like that at some point."

She looks at him tentatively, her voice soft. "_You've_ felt like this?"

He smiles a little at the irony. "Oh, yeah."

She lays her head against his shoulder. "Really?"

"Yep. You're not alone, Abby." He kisses the hair at her temple, something he's done a hundred times. He breathes her in, closing his eyes.

"Did you ever get it? The thing you wanted?" she asks, with hope in her voice.

"Not yet."

"Think you ever will?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

"Think I will?"

He chuckles. "I don't know that, either."

"You always manage to make me feel better. You always get it." She moves to look at him in the soft light, her green eyes shimmering.

He smiles softly at her, wiping away a tear she doesn't realize has escaped. It seems to undo her a little. Her eyes speak volumes…words he knows she cannot say. He reads her so easily. He wonders if she reads him as well. She makes a feeble attempt at smiling back, but he can see her heart is breaking. "It's okay, Abbs."

Another tear falls, and he brushes it away, before leaning toward her. She turns her head, as is their custom, so he can kiss her cheek. He gently catches her chin and stops her. "Uh, uh. Not this time," he whispers, before gazing into her eyes and slowly, softly bringing his lips to hers. He feels her gasp, and draws back.

"Don't stop," she whispers, almost desperately.

He lets his eyes drift close, and captures her lips with his own. The kiss is soft and lingering, and filled with promise, and as he intensifies it, he feels her breath grow heavy. His tongue finds hers, and she moans, grasping his bicep with one hand as the other slides into his hair. He pulls her against him, further deepening the kiss, feeling her tremble in his arms.

He lets it go on as long as he can, but his resolve is beginning to crumble beneath her hands, and he forces himself to draw back. He presses his forehead against hers, and swallows. "I think we've both wondered what that would feel like," he says, his voice husky.

She nods, still trembling. "Uh huh."

He pulls back, staring into her deep green eyes. "You know this can't happen again, Abbs."

She nods, keeping silent for a time. "I wasn't expecting you to kiss me. You caught me off guard."

He strokes her cheek. "Sorry."

She tries to smile. "Apologies are a sign of weakness, Gibbs. You never apologize."

"You make me weak, Abbs."

"Weak enough to kiss me again?" she whispers. "I was unprepared. You have to give me a chance to kiss you back."

"You kissed me back."

She draws him close. "Not like this."

He feels her arms come around his neck, and her lips brush his tenderly, before fully taking possession. He opens his mouth to her, feeling his body react to her tongue dancing seductively over his. His pulse increases, and his breath grows heavy. Her hands clutch at his back, grasping the fabric of his shirt, holding him in place. He strokes the back of her neck with one hand, as the other finds her hip, pulling her nearer still.

His tongue takes over, and he dominates the kiss, making her tremble. She moans, the sound further arousing him. He wants her. He's always wanted her. The impossible, the illogical, the thing he cannot have. He draws back suddenly. "Abbs…"

She looks pleadingly at him, her voice a ragged whisper. "Please don't stop. Not now, please."

"We can't do this."

"Gibbs…"

God, she's beautiful. Sad and turned on and desperate. Desperate for him. He can't say no. "Not here, Abbs."

"Where?"

He strokes her face. "Wherever you want. Just not here."

She nods, capturing his lips in a short, but passionate kiss. "I don't live far."

"I know," he says, standing up and pulling her along. "Neither do I."

She drops Bert onto the futon and smiles softly. "Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

She takes his hand and kisses his cheek. "Happy Valentines."

He smiles thoughtfully. "The first in a long time."

"For me, too."

He squeezes her hand. "It can only get better."

She smiles, leading him out of the lab. "That's what I'm counting on."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to those who read and reviewed the first chapter. I appreciate the love and requests to write more. This is the final chapter. Unlike the first, this one is DEFINITELY _M RATED_. So be WARNED! I look forward to hearing what you all think. **

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><p>The drive to his house is quiet, the tension inside the car thick with anticipation and raw nerves. He isn't sure what possessed him to kiss her in the first place, let alone bring her home with him. God knows he's wanted to. She's been quietly dwelling in a small corner of his heart for a very long time now. The truth is, he's agonized over this moment for years.<p>

He pulls into his driveway and gets out into the icy February air, sucking in a fortifying breath of it. He opens her door for her, and takes her hand. Inside, the house is warm, and he takes her coat and points to the couch. She sits down, and he joins her. The earlier passion has ebbed, and now it feels more like their normal, innocent relationship. He wonders if he should have just left that moment in the lab alone, and walked away with the just memory of those searing kisses.

She reaches for him, ghosting her fingertips over his cheek. He closes his eyes, feeling that exquisite, delicate touch, smelling her perfume. She shifts closer to him, and he opens his eyes to find her a breath away, gazing at him with deep emerald eyes. His hand goes to her hair, stroking it away. God, she's beautiful.

His voice is soft. "You sure about this, Abbs?"

She nods, not saying a word. Instead, she brings her lips to his in a soft, slow kiss. His breath catches, and he feels her open her mouth to him. He runs his tongue along the inside of her lower lip, then lets it find hers. She moans at the feel of him, sliding her arms around his neck. He deepens the kiss, his hand cupping the back of her head to keep her close.

He feels her hands on him, roaming restlessly across his chest and shoulders, up into his hair, and on his face. She breathes heavily, moaning each time his tongue plunges into her mouth. Her fingers find the hem of his shirt, and she raises it slightly, slipping her hands beneath. They're cool against his hot skin, and he shudders. He returns the gesture, his hands moving beneath her top, stroking the soft skin of her tattooed back.

She closes her eyes and moans. "Gibbs…"

He pulls the shirt over her head, dropping it onto the cushions behind her. He lowers his lips to her chest, leaving hot kisses along her collarbone, to the edge of her black bra, down between her breasts, and back up. He feels her breath grow ragged as his tongue slips beneath the fabric, teasing.

"Take it off. Please," she whispers.

His fingers deftly work the clasp, freeing her. He moves his hands to gently cup each breast, running his calloused thumbs across her nipples, and feels her tremble. Her head falls back as he covers one nipple with his mouth, letting his tongue lightly circle it. She clutches at his back, her nails scraping his skin. He increases the pressure, then sucks, and lets his teeth graze the pink tip.

She pants, whimpering as he takes the other breast to his lips, giving it the same attention as the first. He pulls back and looks at her, flushed with passion.

"More," she says breathlessly.

"Bedroom." He pulls her up and leads her to his bed, where he stands still, taking her in. "You're sure?" He has to ask just one more time. She's older than she looks, and he knows she's been with men before, but everything about her screams innocence and inexperience, and he is her boss, afterall. He doesn't want her to regret this. Not for any reason.

"Yes. Please," she whispers, catching the hem of his shirt. She pulls it up and off, wrapping her arms around him, moaning softly at the first contact of her skin against his.

He groans, pulling her against him, covering her mouth with his. His tongue plays with hers, making her breath come hard. Her hands are everywhere. He feels her fingers work the button of his pants, and his heart nearly stalls. He slides his hands down her back, his fingers dancing along her naked spine. She's wearing a typically short skirt, one he slips his hands under, to pull her closer still. She moans, obviously able to feel him, hard against her.

"Gibbs…"

He kisses her deeply, allowing his hands to slip just inside her panties and push them down. They slide onto the floor at her feet, and she steps out of them, unzipping his slacks. They hit the floor along with her skirt, and shortly after, his boxers. Holding her naked in his arms, he kisses her neck and shoulder, biting and sucking at her pulse point, making her pull at him with desire.

He pushes her onto the bed, kissing his way downward, his tongue dancing over her hot skin. He nips and sucks her nipples, and moves further south, dipping his tongue into her belly button, before moving on. She's writhing beneath him, panting, moaning his name. He separates her with gentle fingers, exposing the swollen bud of nerves hidden within. He exhales a hot breath against it, making her whimper and tremble.

He allows the tip of his tongue to dance over it, before kissing it softly, sucking and catching it gently between his teeth. She cries out, her hands in his hair. He releases it, and runs his tongue down, pushing it inside her, over and over. She bucks her hips, moaning, panting, writhing with the building pleasure. He feels how close she is, and runs his tongue back up, flicking it against her until he feels her tense, and hears her breath come even faster. She moans his name, clutches his hair in her fingers, and finally cries out as her climax seizes her. He licks slowly, softly, helping her ride out the final waves.

He plants wet kisses all the way back up her body, feeling her tremble with the aftershocks. Knowing she's wet and sensitive and receptive, he moves over her, settling himself between her thighs. He looks down at her face, flushed with pleasure, eyes heavy-lidded with passion. He kisses her, and she responds fiercely.

"Gibbs…I want you. Please…please make love to me."

"I'm all yours, Abbs," he whispers, rocking his hips, making her feel him. "Anything you want."

She takes him in her hand, stroking up and back down his impressive length.

He shudders, closing his eyes. "Abbs…"

She guides him, and he pushes in, groaning at the feel of her, shuddering at the feel of her nails in his back. He hears her cry out as he enters her, thrusting her hips up to drive him deeper.

He brushes her hair back, gazing down into her eyes. "Slow, Abbs. Go slow. I want you to feel everything. Every sensation. Don't rush it," he whispers against her lips. He tastes her and smells her and feels her, and nearly drowns in it all. She's everything he's ever dreamed she'd be. Sweet and fierce and pleading and passionate. And for now, she's his.

She gazes up at him, her voice unsteady, her breath ragged. "I can't hold on…I can't wait…"

"Then don't," he whispers, before kissing her. He thrusts deeper, slowly finding their rhythm. She cries out, clutching at him, her head thrown back into the pillow. She arches into him, meeting him thrust for thrust, not holding back. He feels her begin to tighten, hears the pitch of her voice change, and hears his name spoken as a throaty cry as she comes again, sinking her nails into his shoulders. It takes all he has not to come with her.

He slows his pace, fully within her, not really thrusting, just rocking his hips. He looks down at her, and brushes the damp hair from her brow. Her lips are swollen from his kisses, her body wracked with tremors as she comes back down.

"God, Gibbs…"

He kisses her deeply, still keeping the slow, gentle rhythm. Her legs are wrapped around his hips, pulling him in deeper. "Slow…" he whispers again, before kissing her softly.

Her whole body trembles, her breath comes in ragged little gasps. He knows where she is in all this…she's back on the edge, ready to plunge over. So incensed, that any motion whatsoever will push her off the precipice. It doesn't happen often, but he's fairly certain it'll happen with her. He keeps up the deep, steady rhythm, then stops, going completely still inside her.

And it happens. She clings to him, contracting hard around him, nearly forcing him out, barely able to breathe. She screams, clenching her jaw, digging her fingers into his back in total desperation. As he feels it begin to fade, he rocks his hips, thrusting into her deeply.

"God…God, Gibbs…"

He kisses her deeply, moaning her name, increasing their tempo. "Abbs…oh, God…"

She finds his rhythm, and keeps up with it, pushing back hard, drawing him deeper with each upward thrust. His head swims, his heart pounds, his breath comes in short, ragged gasps. He feels her begin to tremble, hears her whimpers become cries of ecstasy, and feels her grow tighter around him as another orgasm rocks her. And it's all he can take. He lets go, and feels the rush of exquisite agony as he throbs and spills out inside her, her name a desperate cry on his lips as he comes.

He falls against her, his face buried in her neck, his body slick with sweat. He feels himself pulse within her, and he trembles, riding out the last of it.

When he stops shaking, he rolls off her, pulling her onto his chest. He draws the covers up over their cooling bodies, and kisses the top of her head.

She kisses his chest, sighing with exhaustion and completion.

"You okay, Abbs?" he whispers, nuzzling his lips against her hair.

She nods. "That was…" There are no words.

"I know. For me, too."

"I didn't even know that was possible. You stopped moving, and I…"

He smiles.

"I didn't know that could happen."

"It happens." He strokes her back in gentle circles.

She's quiet for a while, as if trying to find the right words.

"You okay, Abby?"

"Was this…was this what it feels like when it's with someone you love?"

He hugs her against him. "That's why they call it _making love_, Abbs."

"I've…I've never made love. Not until tonight, with you. I've had sex…I've never made love. I knew there was a difference. I'd just never experienced it."

"Now you have?"

She reaches up to kiss him. "Yeah."

He kisses her tenderly. "Me, too."

Her voice is hesitant. Unsteady. "You know what this means, then."

"That you love me?"

She nods, looking afraid, and beautifully vulnerable.

There's only one thing he can give her. The truth. "I love you, too. I always have."


End file.
